World's Stage
by Nythtak
Summary: "They'd picked his sister, his little Primrose, and he didn't even listen long enough to hear the chosen boy's name before he stepped forward to volunteer, blue eyes routed on his sister's fearful ones. I'll keep you safe, he thought, I promise." Wherein instead of a sister named Katniss, Prim has a cheerful, overprotective big brother named Kaden who has no idea what he's in for.
1. Chapter 1

"_All the world's a stage,  
And all the men and women merely players;  
They have their exits and their entrances,  
And one man in his time plays many parts..."_

_- William Shakespeare_

Kaden woke slowly, the fog of sleep reluctant to release its hold on him. His limbs felt heavy and weighed down, mind reluctant to fully wake after the lack of sleep it received the night before. The bed was as hard as ever, but it felt blissfully soft in this half-aware state, and for a moment – just a moment – he could pretend that today wasn't the reaping, could forget the fear for his sister that kept him up last night, tossing and turning with restless energy until his own exhaustion got the better of him.

But he'd never been a particularly good liar. He opened his eyes, wincing when they caught the glare of sunlight peeking through the gap in the curtains. Turning his face away, he looked down at the blond head tucked against his collar, a fond smile pulling up the corners of his lips. Prim had always had a tendency to sneak into his bed the night before reapings, worried that her brother would be the one chosen that year. His smile faded. This time, Prim was in danger too.

With a faint sigh he slowly sat up, gently nudging Prim over a little in order to escape. Her hold tightened for a second before he carefully removed her arms, and she clutched the thin pillow he'd been laying on instead. Kaden grinned at that, then slid out of the bed and onto his feet.

_Cold! _He grimaced, resisting the urge to yelp, not wanting to wake either his sister or his father. He should be used to it by now, but he'd never been a big fan of the cold. He loved the sun and the heat, no matter how rare it was, and spent as much time as he could soaking it up in the summer months. Though it was only the middle of July, the past week had been a cold one, winds kicking up the coal dust that coated the Seam. It didn't seem as bad today – a peek through the curtains revealing the nearly cloudless sky – but the pervasive morning cold still made his skin break out in goosebumps, and he pulled his leather boots on gratefully. What he wouldn't give to live in one of the warmer districts...

He'd slept in his trousers from yesterday, his only other pair having a large rip in them from where he'd just dodged a swipe from one of the larger wild dogs – more wolf than dog, in Kaden's opinion, the snarling creature was certainly larger than the usual ones - a few days earlier. He picked up his shirt – noting it was getting a bit old too, threads unravelling at the edges – and pulled it on, wishing they could afford to keep the fire burning all night so he might've left the shirt to warm by it. Still, he knew that it'd adjust to his body temperature quickly enough.

He started a little when his father coughed, a flash of black hair showing from under the sheets as the man turned over in his sleep. Kaden hoped he was enjoying the few extra hours of sleep. He, however, always found it impossible to go back to sleep after waking up. Besides, he had to go meet Gale.

Keeping his footsteps light he grabbed his forage bag from its hook, pulling the strap over his head as he walked over to the wooden bowl set on the table. He grinned and picked up the goat cheese hidden beneath; Prim's gift to him on reaping day. He was glad he managed to convince father to allow Prim to keep Lady, as Prim had named the goat, even if the older man had been pretty grumpy with him for a while after. But how could he say no to his little sister when she was practically sobbing, begging him to save the injured goat?

"_Mrraow." _Speaking of animals Prim had decided to save. Buttercup, the ugliest cat he'd ever seen, twisted around his legs, looking up at him with dull green eyes before the feline made its way over to Prim and jumped on to curl up beside her. He was not a cat person, and when he had seen the flee-infested kitten Prim had brought home a few years ago he wasn't about to change his mind. But then she brought out the puppy-eyes (a technique he was both proud and chagrined to say she learnt from him) and he knew he'd lost. Father hadn't been very happy. Kaden had spent several months as a sort of protector for the bedraggled cat, who soon learnt to hide either behind or on him to escape Tero's wrath. His father would never harm Prim just to get to the cat, but she was very young then, and spent a lot of her time playing or sleeping.

Since then, though Buttercup – Kaden still couldn't see how the dirty yellow fur of the cat was supposed to be similar to the flower's bright shade – preferred Prim by far, Kaden represented safety. He didn't mind Buttercup too much, since he mostly caught his own food, taking care of the mice that sometimes nibbled at their already meagre food supplies. And the cat made Prim happy, satisfying his big brother instincts.

Stepping out of the house, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. He was used to the bustle of miners heading out for the morning shift, his father amongst them, not the empty streets presented to him. It wasn't a complete shock though – it was like this last year – but it was still a bit strange, and made him quicken his step as he walked towards the small, ragged field that was the Meadow. It was what separated the outermost houses in the Seam and the chain-link fence that enclosed District 12. The fence was supposed to be electrified, but as far as he knew it hadn't been for years, and there was a convenient weak spot – one of a few - that he slid under. He really should check, knew his father would be lecturing his ear off if he found out, but he was in a bit of a rush, having woken up a bit later than he thought judging by the placement of the sun in the sky.

On the other side there was only a short gap to the woods themselves. The tall trees were comforting as he walked between them, breathing deeply to take in the fresh scent of the forest. He'd always felt most at home here, and had more than once entertained the fantasy of running away to live here, far away from the fear the Capitol inspired. If he kept going there was nothing but wilderness ahead of him, the sea to the east and the ruins of District 13 to the west. He tried to imagine it; just him and the trees and the animals.

His eyes opened – when had he closed them? - and he sighed, jogging lightly to get his blood flowing and heat his body up. Leaves crunched beneath his boots, quietly enough that is shouldn't gain any attention. He never followed the same route, not wanting to leave a trail for others to follow, even if that made it harder for him to navigate the forest. But he practically grew up here, knew every bush and stream well enough to walk it blind, and he'd be rather ashamed if he ever got lost.

Kaden stopped when he reached the familiar spot. In front of him was a forked tree, the thick trunk burnt slightly in a slanted line that was only obvious if you knew what you're looking for. He crouched down, brushed away a few leaves from the ground to reveal an old lock seemingly lodged in the forest floor, the edges brown with rust. His hand slipped under his shirt collar and grabbed the key hanging from a piece of string around his neck, pulling it over his head and inserting it into the lock. Tongue sticking out between his teeth he tried to turn it one, two, three times before the old tumblers finally worked, allowing him to lift up a square patch of ground about two metres long and and half that wide. Kaden grinned in triumph; last time he was here _ages _trying to get the thing to unlock.

Inside was a selection of weapons. Most were pretty basic; knives of various sizes and types, four swords – one barely more than a dagger, another almost as tall as he was – and a few bows. But hidden beneath them was where the more dangerous ones lay; guns and tasers and grenades - weapons only the Peacekeepers were supposed to have access to. The problem? The majority were so old they were falling apart, or didn't even have any ammunition, making them just as useless. Apparently this was a weapons cachet set up way back when the districts rebelled, and though they lost, Kaden's father's line passed on knowledge of it to their own children, as if in the hope that one day they would finally be put to use.

Most of it was junk, but Kaden enjoyed learning how to use the rest, though he stayed away from the guns in case the shots were heard. His father taught him how to use the functional weapons to an 'acceptable degree', whatever that meant, then he had to learn the rest through trial and error. There was definitely a lot of error involved, for his limited success. He found he had great aim, so he took to the bow and throwing knives quite well, and ended up concentrating most of his effort on them since they were so useful in hunting. He didn't really have the time to practise much with the others, not if he wanted to keep his family fed as the same time.

Kaden grabbed a quiver of arrows and slung them over his shoulder, resting his bow on the opposite one, and strapped a couple of knives to his belt. Then he closed the lid of the compartment, locking it and covering it with a scattering of leaves as a precaution. Nobody except Gale and him, and sometimes his father, ever really went into the forest, but it was better not to leave something that could be so dangerous to chance. He didn't want to think about what would happen if a Peacekeepers found out. He'd like to think that they'd keep it a secret, wanted to be able to trust them, but when it could put Prim in danger just by association he couldn't risk it.

Brushing away his dark thoughts he made his way up the steady incline. Up ahead was where he usually meets Gale. The rock ledge overlooked the valley, a lake glittering at the bottom of the hill where they would swim in warmer weather. His eyes closed with a pleased hum as he stepped out of the shade of the trees, facing turning up and basking in the sunshine.

A finger poked his forehead and he opened his eyes, making a affronted sound. Gale was there, grinning and looking pleased that he'd managed to catch Kaden off-guard. He was obviously still a bit sore from when Kaden had caught him daydreaming whilst they were supposed to be hunting, and tackled him to the ground to shock him 'awake'. Eyeing the taller, broader boy, Kaden felt glad that Gale hadn't decided to use the same technique. He wasn't too keen on getting crushed.

"I swear you're more flower than human, Kai." Gale said teasingly. A few years back Kaden had decided that he hated the name, for whatever reason – he was a kid, all right? - and tried to convince everyone to call him 'Kai' instead. A couple of weeks later he changed his mind, but it stuck with Prim – who was already calling him that anyway – and Gale. Kaden thought it was because every time Gale had called him anything else during those two weeks, he would shoot an arrow at the older boy, each time a little closer to a certain vital area. It was pretty much ingrained in him in the name of self-preservation.

"What's wrong with enjoying the sun?" Kaden replied. "Not all of us likes skulking in the shadows."

Gale put on a mock offended look. "I don't _skulk. _It's called being sneaky."

The younger boy patted his shoulder consolingly. "Sure, whatever you say."

Both gave each other serious looks before breaking out in grins. Years ago, when he first met the rather moody boy, Kaden made it his goal to get Gale to be more cheerful. He thought it'd worked, since he definitely smiled a lot more and joked around too, and didn't brood as much as he used to. If only his other goals were so easy to achieve..._a happy teenager today, an end to world hunger tomorrow!_

"Hey, look what I shot." Gale lifted a loaf of bread from behind his back, presenting it to Kaden. He looked at the arrow sticking out of its side and laughed, taking it and breathing in the mouth-watering scent of fresh bread. It wasn't stale or hard like the bread he was used to; it must've been straight from the bakery.

"Perfect," he murmured, reaching into his bag. "Prim made me some cheese; we'll have our own feast before..."

Gale tactfully ignored the way he trailed off, his own grey eyes darkening for a moment before he visibly focussed on the positive. "I'll have to thank her later. Maybe you and her could come over later for dinner? My mother's been nagging at me lately, saying that you looked too thin when she last saw you." There was a little concern in his gaze, as if he too had had similar thoughts.

Kaden waved it away, placing the bread on a convenient boulder that had been smoothed down over the years until it was almost flat. He took his knife – they were kept cleaner than what most people in 12 used at home - and began slicing the bread, saying, "I'm fine. She shouldn't worry so much. Both of you," he sent the older boy a meaningful look, and Gale lifted his hands in surrender before going to collect some blackberries from the nearby bushes. Cutting the bread into neat slices he frowned slightly. The two Hawthorne's were right; he had been eating less. But it wasn't a big deal – he was fine, no dizziness or fatigue or weakness – and it was necessary with the recent food shortages. Between feeding Prim, and feeding himself, he'd choose his sister every time.

"I almost forgot! Happy Hunger Games!" Gale said suddenly. Kaden looked up at him curiously. He had a sardonic smile on his face, and tossed one of the berries he'd picked towards Kaden, saying with an amusing Capitol accent lilt to his words, "And may the odds-"

Kaden leant forwards to catch the berry in his mouth, biting down on it with vigour – the sweet-almost-sour taste was pleasantly sharp on his tongue – before continuing the famous phrase, "-be _ever_ in your favour!" He wasn't as good as Gale was at the accent, but he thought he managed a passable imitation, if the amused look Gale threw him was anything to go by.

The soft cheese spread easily across the bread, and he piled them up before sitting down on the grass. He was joined a second later by Gale, who dropped the berries down on a piece of cloth between them. After a moment of awkwardly juggling with his hunger and not wanting to drop any, Kaden placed the bread down on it too, grabbing a couple of slices for himself. The food was quickly consumed between them, and he made a mental note to thank Prim again for her contribution. That goat had _definitely _been worth the hassle.

This was their own sort of ritual; to meet up on the morning of the reaping, bringing some sort of food and just...relaxing. The reaping was never far from their minds, but it was a lot easier to think about here, where the Capitol and its games seemed so distant, rather than the depressing atmosphere in the Seam where the fear and worry of so many people seemed to weigh down on you. He sighed contently and lay back, propped up on his elbows, stomach full and the heat from the sun soaking into his skin. He wished he could just stay here forever.

"We could do it, you know."

"Hmm?" Kaden lazily opened one eye. Gale was looking at him with a thoughtful expression, settled back against the rock as he twisted a piece of grass between his fingers.

"Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods." The statements came out in a rush, like he'd been bottling them up inside for a while now, but had thought over them a lot. "You and I, we could make it."

Fully opening both eyes Kaden sat up, a little startled to hear Gale say something so similar to what he'd been thinking on the trek up. The idea tempted him – to run away, leave it all behind – but despite being accused as idealogical he was skeptical of their chances. "Good luck convincing your mother to pack up and leave," he said instead, words tempered by the wry look on his face. "Never mind Prim. Can you imagine her, living out here? 'Kai! You never told me there were _bugs _in the forest! Kai! You can't _kill_ that animal, it's cute and fluffy!'" he imitated a high pitched voice that, truthfully, sounded nothing like his sister, ruefully thinking about how annoyed she'd be if she heard him.

Gale huffed a laugh despite himself, pensive expression clearing up. Kaden nudged the older boy, and said, "C'mon, I feel like fishing today." He jumped up onto his feet, bouncing impatiently as he waited for a smirking Gale to get up. He deliberately took longer, and a few minutes later in revenge Kaden shoved him into the lake. The sight of his shocked spluttering was well worth his own clothes getting soaked when he was dragged in. They dried whilst they gathered some greens, and Kaden delighted in picking the brightest and juiciest strawberries.

With their spoils carefully tucked away they headed to the Hob. It was busy, despite a few of the businesses being closed on the reaping day, and it didn't take too long to find good trades for the majority of the fish and greens. The next stop was the mayor's house; the mayor was particularly fond of strawberries, and was willing to pay a good price for them. Kaden always picked the best ones as thanks.

It was the mayor's daughter, Madge, who answered the back door when Kaden knocked. She was a year younger than him, so he didn't see her much at school, but he'd gotten to know her a bit better over the course of his deliveries. A lot of people thought she was a snob because she was the mayor's daughter, so he didn't think she had many friends. But she was nice, if a bit quiet, and Kaden always tried to make her laugh – or at least smile - when he saw her, since she always looked so lonely.

"I see you've already gotten all prettied up," he commented, nodding to the expensive white dress she wore, her hair tied back with a pink ribbon. "You should wear your hair like that more often; it suits you." He winked at her, earning an eye roll and a shy grin. He had found that compliments were the quickest ways to get smiles out of people, even if they tried to hide them. He was always honest, though, so he couldn't see anything wrong with it.

"Well, if I end up going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?" she said, brushing down the front off her dress.

"You won't be going to the Capitol," Gale said coldly. Kaden winced at the tone, and how Madge had unintentionally poked at a rather sore point. "What can you have? Five entries? I had six when I was just twelve years old."

"Gale." Kaden said firmly, getting the taller boy to release his glare on Madge – who's face had blanked as she stood stiffly in the doorway – and turn to him instead. Frustration and worry swirled in Gale's eyes, and the corner of his mouth was pulled down in displeasure. "It's not her fault. You know that."

He crossed his arms and looked away as he said tensely, "No, it's no ones fault. Just the way it is."

Glancing at the blond girl's awkward form Kaden shot her an apologetic smile and passed over half of the strawberries, pocketing the money he received in return. "Good luck, Kaden." she murmured, closing the door.

"You too!" he replied with an attempt at his usual brightness, despite the figurative rain cloud standing next to him. The trip back to the Seam was made in relative silence, occasionally broken by his attempts to get Gale to chat about a happier subject. But when he kept getting one syllable replies at best, and grunts at worst, he gave up. He grumbled under his breath about 'mopey brooders', and was gratified to see the faint smirk out of the corner of his eye.

He could relate to Gale's anger. It _was _unfair, that the richer people – though no one was really rich in District 12 – didn't have to apply for tesserae, weren't so desperate for food that they'd increase their chances of being thrown into a killing match that they had no chance of winning. But, like he'd said earlier, it wasn't their fault. If anyone was to blame, it was the Capitol, but it wasn't like they could complain to them without risking getting their tongues cut off – at best. He'd heard – more whispers than rumours – that over the seventy-three years of Hunger Games there had been a few people who had protested, and had 'mysteriously disappeared' soon after. That was if the Capitol was feeling merciful. The public executions of fifty years ago were not something he'd ever want to see, if his father's stories were accurate. They didn't happen any more – at least, not to his knowledge – but not even he could believe that the ruthless President Snow was above bringing them back to prove a point.

When it was time to part ways the two teenagers split the rest of the food and money between them. It was more than Kaden had been expecting; he'd help Prim make something nice for dinner that night, even if he wasn't that great at cooking. "I'll see you later." he said, waving over his shoulder.

"Don't be late," came the flat reply.

Kaden jogged home, greeting a few Peacekeepers he saw on the way back and getting eye-rolls and a couple of exasperated waves in response. They were used to either fear or hostility, so the boy's cheerful countenance baffled a lot of them. The less rigid ones – usually the younger – had warmed up to him over the years, and the rest at least tolerated him, so he counted it as a victory.

His father and Prim were ready to go when he arrived. His father was wearing a clean (for the Seam) pair of grey trousers, and one of the least ripped shirts he owned. He sat in his chair, face gaining that awful blankness that always showed up on reapings. Kaden knew it was his way of coping – to become numb, rather than face the worry and fear for his children clawing at his insides – but it still caused a shiver to run down his spine. His father looked dead, only the steady rise and fall off his chest dissuading that notion.

He looked at Prim instead. She wore a blue skirt and a white ruffled blouse, both startlingly new. Kaden had spent the last couple of years running errands and doing chores for a tailor and his wife, who lived in the merchants sector. His wife made female clothing – dresses and skirts and the like. So in return she'd given him the clothes as payment, and though they were a bit big on his sister she'd worked out how to make it fit using pins.

"Do I look okay?" Prim asked worriedly, twisting the folds of the skirt in her fists as she studied herself in the cracked mirror that leant against the wall.

Kaden crouched down in front of her and grinned, ruffling her hair. "You look adorable. I'll have to fend of your admirers and hide you away from them, in case they try to steal you from me." He mock-sighed, attempting to keep his face serious despite his sister's giggles. "You're so troublesome."

"_You're _the one who's troublesome!" she exclaimed, blue eyes bright with laughter as she poked him in the chest. He swayed back on his heels, comically widening his eyes as he almost lost his balance. "You're not even dressed properly!"

Looking down at his grass stained – and everything-else-stained – trousers, muddy shoes and a coating of sweat, he muttered, "So I am."

He let Prim push him into the other room, where a tub of warm water waited. He blinked at her when he ran back in again with a towel and a small chunk of soap, his reaping clothes hanging over her shoulder and a brush in her hand. She dropped it in a pile, gave him a stern look which looked incredibly cute on her young features, and ordered him to clean up quickly.

"Sir, yes sir," he chuckled, saluting lazily and waiting for his sister to leave before stripping and climbing into the tub. It was a bit small for him, making it a rather uncomfortable fit, but the heat of the water made him slump back appreciatively, taking a minute to relax before he started scrubbing the dirt from his skin.

The white shirt fit more or less perfectly; he'd worn it for the past few reapings, and he'd finally grown into it. The black trousers however were a little short, dangling an inch above his ankles, whilst the shoes were made for feet bigger than his; they were an old pair of his father's, in relatively good condition since he'd only ever worn them on reaping days. As soon as he put them on he longed for his boots.

Getting dressed was easy enough; his hair that was the hard part. Thick and inky black, the dark locks refused to lay straight, forming its customary slanted spikes even after being washed. His fringe wasn't so bad; parting in the middle with the longest pieces falling to his chin as it framed his face. He dragged the hairbrush through his hair a few times, but knew from experience that it was ultimately futile. With a defeated sigh he gave up, wishing he hadn't been cursed with 'hedgehog-hair', as it'd been called by his family. It was the same every year, but at least his hair was long enough that the locks didn't stick straight up like they had when he was younger.

Prim frowned at him when he entered the room, looking like she wanted to attack his unruly hair herself. "Hey, I tried," Kaden said sheepishly, then continued in the hope of distracting her, "You want me to plait your hair?" The blonde looked delighted at that, and ran over to get a thin piece of leather for him to use as a tie before returned to stand in front of him, shuffling impatiently.

Kaden got to work on the plait, neatly sectioning off the blond strands before beginning the simple pattern. His mother used to do this for Prim every day, once her hair was long enough, and he had always enjoyed watching as she turned messy waves into intricate braids. It was the reason he'd learnt how to do this from Gale's mother; he was no where near as good, but it made them – Prim and himself – feel closer to their mother. She had died when he was nine, his sister just four years old, from one of the winter sicknesses that had spread through District 12. It had been horrible towards the end, when she was in so much pain, and it was almost a blessing when she finally passed on in her sleep. His father...hadn't taken it well. It was like he'd frozen, the gruff yet kind man becoming emotionless, despondent, like all the life had been drained from him. He hadn't gone to work any more, just lay in bed all the time, any movements mechanical and blank. No matter how much he shook the man, or Prim cried and screamed, he just...lay there, ignorant to the world.

It had fallen onto Kaden to look after his family. His father had taught him how to hunt, and he'd often missed school so that he could spend enough time out in the woods to get enough. It was harder during the winter months, and he'd have to spend days out there, finding and tracking the minimal amount of animals left out in the open. He thought that was why he loved to be warm so much; the cold was spending freezing nights in the pitch black forest. The cold was hunger clawing at his stomach and clouding his mind, and his little sister's skeletal frame.

But they managed, they survived. Kaden became more of a parent to Prim than a sibling, and they grew used to hole their mother's absence had left. In many ways it seemed like their father had died with her. On his darker days, when any joy or happiness was staved off by lack of food and sleep, he sometimes thought it would've been better if he _had _died.

Tero finally 'woke' on the day of the reaping. It was Kaden's first, and he had entered his name four times; once because he had to, the rest for the tesserae he would receive. Just thinking about the supply of grain and oil had been enough to bring a grin to his thin face, enough to dismiss his fears of being chosen. He had been walking over to get registered when his father had put a hand on his shoulder, and it had startled him enough to completely freeze, before spinning around to stare wide-eyed at the dark-haired man's back as he walked away.

After that he seemed to get better. He still barely spoke, and when he did it was flat and quiet, so you had to strain to hear his rough voice. But when Prim had turned ten he'd gone out a bought her a flower, a pink one from one of the merchant's wives who kept a garden, and told her that she looked just like her mother. Then he'd even gone back to work, though he only went in to oversee the occassional blasting in the mine, and had started teaching Kaden how to use the weapons in the cachet again until a year ago. Kaden had forgiven the man for abandoning him, but he could _never _forgive him for doing the same to Prim – tiny, skinny little Prim who had _needed _him, had needed a father, and she'd had to use her brother as a substitute instead.

Kaden realised he'd finished, and was just staring unseeingly at the mirror. His reflection peered back. He had black hair and olive skin, like near everyone in the Seam, but his eyes were different. They were a bright, deep blue which stood out against his skin. He must've inherited it from someone in his mother's family. Prim's were a lighter blue, like their mother's, and she'd gotten her pale skin and fair hair too. The only way you could really tell they were related was in their faces; Kaden had soft, feminine features, with high cheekbones and smooth skin, more mature than his sister's but still similar. His frame was geared more for swiftness than strength, but years of hunting and practise had built up his muscles. He didn't look very intimidating, not like his father with his tall bulkiness from years of working in mines. _Gale's right_, _I really am a 'pretty boy', _he thought with a grudging amusement, the corners of his mouth quirking up. The dimple the showed in his left cheek just made the admission worse.

The sound of a rumbling stomach brought him out of his contemplation, and he directed an unimpressed look down at his abdomen. He could hear Prim giggling and she span around to look at him, giggles increasing at his glare. "It's the smell, I swear. I'm not even hungry," he muttered, casting a baleful look at the pot of stew cooking above the fire.

"We'll have break and milk, before we go," Tero said suddenly, getting up with a creak from his old chair. They sat in silence as they ate, though every time Prim started to look too gloomy Kaden would catch her attention and make goofy faces for her amusement. Their father's muttered comment of "Dignity? What dignity?" only made his two children laugh.

They set off for the square at one o'clock, as per usual. As they got closer more and more people joined the crowds, until Kaden had to keep a tight hold off Prim's hand to ensure they wouldn't get separated. After signing in Tero clasped a hand on their shoulders before moving off to join the other family members, and Kaden caught a glimpse of him settling near the back, stone-faced and arms crossed. Then it was time for Prim to join the other twelve-year-olds. She reluctantly detached herself from his side, and he gave her a quick hug – the other teenagers were bustling around them, and he heard several annoyed huffs as they tried to get past the obstruction – before sending her off with a reassuring smile.

It faded as he walked over to the other seventeen-year-olds. His attention was drawn to the stage that had been set up in front of the Justice Building, which had been cleaned up even though it still held the grey tinge of age. On the stage were four chairs, two of which occupied by Mayor Undersee and Effie Trinket. The green suit and ridiculous hair of District 12's escort earned a raised eyebrow, and he privately thought that her scary wide smile could terrify small children.

A few minutes later a woman with black hair streaked with grey climbed up on the stage and stiffly took a seat. Blair Vine. She won the 37th Hunger Games when she was fifteen, receiving a blinded eye and a limp for her trouble. Her lips were turned down in a near constant frown, and she always sat up straight. When she was in the Games a boy from 2 stabbed her in the lower back, just before she cut his throat with a jagged rock. They were the last two left, so the Gamemakers had simply waited to see who died first, and when Blair lasted the longest they declared her victor and patched her up. But the boy had done some sort of damage to her spine that not even the Capitol could fix completely, resulting in her limp and a never-ceasing pain in her back.

Despite her biting sarcasm and cruel insults that she directed at pretty much anyone, she'd opened up a small clinic that dealt out homemade cures and painkillers for free. She'd also stitch up anyone who asked for her aid, as long as you'd put up with her remarks on the 'stupidity of youth', as Kaden knew from experience. Not so oddly, she'd grown fond off Prim when his sister insisted on coming with him once, and had accepted her as a sort of apprentice when Prim asked if she could learn from her. So whilst Blair didn't exactly like Kaden, she'd gotten used to him, and appreciated the herbs he'd collect from the forest at her request.

Catching his eye, the stern-faced woman gave him a nod. He returned it with a cheery wave, and he saw her snort and look away to glare at the cameras being set up around the square. His eyes drifted away, pulled almost magnetically to the two large glass balls.

Before the fear could fully manifest the town clock struck two, and the balding mayor stepped up to the podium and began to read. Rather than listening to him blandly recite the history of Panem, the Dark Days and the creation of the Hunger Games Kaden sought out Gale. He stood amongst the eighteen-year-olds, and craning his neck Kaden could see the stormy expression growing on his face. Kaden didn't quite understand why he was so mad – it was the same speech every year after all – and he attempted to get his attention whilst remaining silent. Unfortunately, their psychic link seemed to be malfunctioning today.

Distracted, he didn't notice that Effie Trinket had taken the mayor's place until she gave her signature bubbly, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever _in your favour!" Haymitch Abernathy, the only other victor District 12 had had, was sitting in his chair too, slumped over and obviously very drunk. Kaden wondered if he was the reason Effie's wig was now skewed, and half wanted to congratulate the man as Effie went on about how it was such an honour to be there, despite her clear distaste for the district.

And then Effie said, "Ladies first!" as she moved over to the girl's ball, reaching her hand in deep. His heart was beating frantically in his chest, in a mantra of _not Prim – thump-thump – not Prim – thump-thump – not Prim. _He wished she would _hurry up_, because he couldn't bare this, couldn't bare the fear and desperation that twisted in his gut and constricted his breathing.

She pulled out a piece of paper, and Kaden imagined he could see his sister's name written in fancy Capitol writing, all loops and unnecessary curls, glowing through the paper. He knew he was being stupid – Prim's name was in there _once, _just once, not like his own twenty-four – but he couldn't stop himself from holding his breath when Effie approached the podium, spread out the piece of paper and read two words that brought his world crashing down around him.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

**. . .**

_After watching Catching Fire I was inspired to start a new fiction, which I hope you'll enjoy. So, introducing Kaden Everdeen (pronounced Kai- like a kite -den), overprotective big brother and generally cheerful guy. I decided to make him this way due to the majority of ocs being sarcastic, quick-tempered and kinda mean (not all, mind you). Oh, and female. _

_I kinda have a plan for where I'm going with this, but a lot of it is 'in the moment' writing, so updates may be sporadic. Either way, I'd love to know what you think, so please leave a review._

_**For any interested, since I don't think I'm very good at describing how people look, Kaden is inspired by Zack Fair from Final Fantasy 7 (his pre-hair slicked back look) so google it if you'd like. Oh, and Blair Vine will have a purpose...eventually. **_


	2. Chapter 2

For a moment he just, couldn't think, couldn't concentrate on anything except those two words. _Primrose Everdeen...Primrose Everdeen._ Kaden could feel the gazes of people around him, could hear the unhappy murmurs of the crowd. But he felt disconnected from them, like he wasn't really registering it, seeing the world through a thick fog that numbed his emotions. Was this what his father had felt like – still felt like?

It was only the sight of Prim's shaking form making her way up to the stage, face drained of blood and eyes wide in fear that snapped him out of his shock. He wanted to run forward, to grab his sister and flee, just keep going until the world – the Hunger Games – was too far behind them to ever catch up.

But he couldn't. They'd be caught, he knew that, and then Prim would still be in the Games and they'd kill him, and what good would he be to her dead? But it was agonising, just..._standing _there, having to watch her trembling on the stage and wanting to scream _why? _Why Prim, why his tiny sister who couldn't bear to kill a squirrel, never mind another human being? Why punish children for the actions of men and women who lived over seventy years ago? What the _hell _was the point in all of this, _any_ of it?

"Let's give a round of applause for the female tribute!" Effie said, and Kaden had never wanted to hit someone as much as he did then. Couldn't she see how wrong this was? How cruel and senseless? He'd never agreed with the Hunger Games, but every injustice hit so much _harder _now that it was his sister up there.

Prim was staring at the ground, desperately trying to hide her fear from the cameras even as a few tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Kaden's fists clenched tightly, biting painfully into his palms and he was grateful for the distraction from his tremulous emotions, even if it was only temporary. He wondered how anyone else managed this; how could they handle seeing someone they loved so afraid? How could they stand knowing the chance of their survival was so narrow it might as well not have been at all?

Effie was walking over to the boy's ball when he finally caught Prim's eye. She was biting down on her lip, a habit she'd learnt from him, and her skirt was creased from where she'd been twisting it between her fingers. She looked so _small _standing alone in the middle of the stage, trying to put on a brave face despite her obvious fear, and Kaden had never felt so angry in his life. It curled uncomfortably in his chest, a roaring fire that just grew and _grew _the longer he looked at her.

They'd picked his sister, his little Primrose, and he didn't even listen long enough to hear the chosen boy's name before he started moving away from the clump of seventeen-year-olds, blue eyes routed on his sister's fearful ones. _I'll keep you safe,_ he thought, fists clenched so hard that he could feel blood starting to drip steadily down his hand, _I promise. _

"Peeta Mell-"

"I volunteer." He said, voice almost a shout so that he could be heard over Effie's magnified voice. There was a dead silence after his announcement, and every camera in the square swung around to face him. He wondered what he looked like to them. Could they see his anger, see his hatred that burned so hotly it hurt? Could they see his resolution in his eyes, his promise to protect his sister no matter what happened, to tear down any who would do her harm – including them?

He made his way up to the stage, forcefully relaxing his hands once he reached the steps and ignoring the small droplets of red he left in his wake. It was obvious Effie wasn't quite sure what to do. In the Districts where teenagers would scramble for the chance to compete, they'd put the volunteers names in the ball again, and whoever was picked that time would be the tribute. No one in District 12 had ever volunteered, not as far as he was aware, since it was pretty much a death sentence to whoever was foolish enough to do so. He couldn't understand how anyone could not, how any sibling could just stand by and watch.

"Lovely!" said Effie, still looking a bit frazzled but also excited. This must've been the most interesting thing to happen at a District 12 reaping in decades; maybe she'd get her promotion to a better district. "That's the spirit of the Games! What's your name?"

But Kaden ignored her and headed towards Prim, who was looking up at him with horrified eyes. She ran the last few metres to meet him, and he scooped her up into a hug as she buried her face in his neck. He hadn't held her like this since she was a kid, since she was a bit big for it now, but he kept his balance and rubbed her back as she sobbed in a mixture of terrible fear and relief. He could still feel the cameras on them, knew they were watching his every move and action, but he didn't care as he said, "It's okay Prim, you'll be okay. I'll keep you safe. That's a promise."

He gently set her down, and she transferred her grip to his mid-section instead as he turned to look at Effie. Her eyes were ridiculously wide in her pale face, her confusion palpable. Might as well clear it up for her – and everyone else who didn't live in District 12, who already knew him. "I'm Kaden Everdeen." He couldn't remove all the heat from his voice, and Effie flinched before regaining her composure.

"You must be Miss Everdeen's brother, am I right?" She didn't wait for confirmation before continuing, "Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tributes!"

No one clapped. Some were solemn, like they had already accepted the inevitability of the siblings' deaths, whilst others looked angry. These were mostly the ones he interacted often with at the Hob, as well as few kids he was friends with at school. And then, gradually but steady, almost every member of the crowd touched the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and held it out to the two standing on the stage. _Thank you. Goodbye. _He was startled at this act of defiance, this refusal to pretend that everything was okay, and felt absurdly proud of them in that moment, enough that he couldn't help the grin spreading across his face.

Haymitch chose this moment to bring attention to himself, stumbling across the stage and throwing an arm around Kaden's shoulders, thankfully on the side opposite to his sister. "I like this one!" he bellowed, the stench of alcohol hitting the boy in the face. Kaden wrinkled his nose, and tried to stamp down on his amusement when the older man continued, "Lots of...spunk! More than you!" Releasing Kaden he stepped forward, towards the front of the stage. Then he pointed directly at a camera, "More than you!"

Was he really taunting the Capitol? Kaden desperately bit back the urge to applaud, and hoped they would dismiss it as the ramblings of a drunk instead of an act of dissent that needed to be punished. But before he could go on he plummeted off the edge of the stage, and when Kaden leant forwards in alarm he could see the older man had knocked himself unconscious. A short laugh escaped him, even as the cameras swung back around to focus on the tributes. He heard Prim giggling into his side and smiled wider, glad that she was able to be happy to any capacity despite the situation.

It was up to the mayor to get everything back on track as Haymitch was carted away on a stretcher, and he began to read the long, dreary Treaty of Treason as he was required to do so every year. Instead of listening – he'd practically memorised the boring thing by now – Kaden looked over at Blair. Her scowl was even deeper than normal, and she kept sending Prim sad glances, like she was preparing herself for the small girl's death. He gritted his teeth and wrapped an arm protectively around Prim's shoulders, gaining the old woman's attention. He couldn't see the same hopelessness when she looked at him, and he felt his anger building at the implication. But Blair seemed to read his intentions in his gaze, and though she pressed her lips into a thin line she nodded at him, and he knew that she'd help him.

Help him to save Prim. And for that, he would need to die.

But first, twenty-two tributes would fall. He's make sure of it.

**. . .**

They played the anthem when the mayor finished, and then Kaden and Prim were escorted by a group of Peacekeepers he didn't recognise – must've been from the Capitol – into the Justice Building. They were separated into different rooms, and though Kaden was reluctant to let go of his sister he knew that it would be pointless to fight on this, since he would be seeing her again in an hour. Prim nodded when he explained this to her, and he was allowed to drop her off at her room before going to his.

He collapsed onto one of the velvet chairs, leaning his head to rest against the back and looking up at the shapeless patterns on the white ceiling. His body was shaking, he realized, and he had to concentrate to still his hands. Turning them over he winced at the small gashes he'd made in his palm, and the blood congealed under his nails. Hopefully no one had noticed; he didn't exactly want to be known as a masochist by the entirety of Panem.

He snorted. It was typical of him to get distracted by something so petty, when he didn't want to face the true source of his fears. No, that was wrong. He knew what was coming – or at least had a good idea – and yeah, he was scared, but he didn't want to dwell on that. Whilst fear did make you more alert, it could also cause you to freeze and fall apart, and he couldn't afford to do that.

He looked up when the door slammed open and his father stalked in. Anger and worry cast conflicting shadows on his face, and Kaden had no idea what to say. Since his mother's death they'd never been as close as they'd once been, but he still loved his father, still wanted his approval. They stared at each other for few moments before the teenager stood. "Father-" he started.

Tero interrupted, "I spoke to Prim. She said – she told me what you said. About protecting her." He stared at his son unblinkingly, grey eyes grim. "You know what that means, don't you? You can't just go saying that to her-"

"I mean it." Kaden said firmly, jaw clenching. "I'll look after her, and then she'll come home and live the rest of her life never wanting for anything. And _yes,_" he continued when his father opened his mouth. "I know that means I have to d-die." He stumbled over the last word and cursed himself for it. For all his determination he was still afraid. He didn't want to die, but it didn't matter. He wanted Prim to live more.

His father stared at him for a few moments, before seeming to deflate. He suddenly seemed like – well, like what he was; a father who's children were being taken away, knowing that only one could return, and even then the odd weren't in their favour. Kaden walked forward and placed a tentative hand on the taller man's shoulder, saying with his usual smile, "Hey, it'll be okay. You shouldn't worry so much; you'll give yourself grey hair."

"I thought it was fright that caused that," he muttered in reply, and Kaden was glad to hear the wry tone.

"Eh, close enough." he shrugged, then turned serious. "Look after yourself, you hear? Prim's gonna need her father when she gets home."

"You've always been more of a father to her than I have," Tero said, but at the glare he received he amended with a sigh. "I'll do my best. It won't be – it won't be like last time, I promise."

Kaden searched for the honesty in his eyes for a moment before nodding, allowing his hand to drop and his body to relax. "Good," he breathed. It had been one of his worries, that even if Prim did survive – and she _would, _she had to – she'd be alone. The reassurance that she wouldn't took a weight off he shoulders.

Then the door opened again, and a Peacekeeper said, "Time's up." Tero gave his son one last long look before turning to leave, and Kaden waved weakly at him when he glanced over his shoulder before the door closed.

Thankfully he wasn't left alone with his thoughts for long. He couldn't stop his surprise from showing when he saw who it was; Peeta Mellark, the boy who's place he had taken. He stood awkwardly by the door, glancing at Kaden's curious face before looking away. He didn't know much about Peeta, just that he was the baker's son and so was better off than most people, and that he had a couple of brothers. They'd never really spoken before, since he was a year younger and they didn't have any classes together.

Just as Kaden was wondering if he was going to stand in silence for the rest of his visit, he pulled out a white paper package from inside his jacket and held it out. "I just wanted to say, to say thank you, I guess," he finished weakly.

"I didn't do it for you," Kaden replied, not unkindly, as he took the offering. Inside were a few cookies, and his mouth watered at the sight. The last time he had a cookie was when he managed to trade an unusually plump rabbit for a rather stale one a few years ago, for Prim's birthday. They'd shared it between them, and Kaden had declared it his favourite food.

"I know," Peeta said quickly, looking like he was berating himself in his head.

Taking pity the black-haired boy smiled at him. "Thanks, I haven't had cookies in a while."

Peeta returned the smile, looking relieved. "You're welcome." The blond hesitated, then headed for the door, pausing to say an unsure, "Good luck." before leaving. Kaden blinked at the abrupt exit, but wasn't offended. He wasn't that keen on awkward silences either, which would've been inevitable.

His next guest was just as unexpected. Madge walked determinedly into the room, and started speaking before he could even say 'Hi'. "They let you wear one thing from your district in the arena. One thing to remind you of home. Will you wear this?" She held out a circular, gold pin – she'd been wearing it on her dress earlier, he remembered. It depicted a small bird in flight – a mockingjay or something like it.

"Are you sure?" It was expensive, he could tell, and very well made. Why would Madge give it up for him to use as a token? He considered her a friend, but he hadn't known he was _her _friend too - until now.

"Absolutely," she said with an assurance that he didn't want to argue with. "Here, I'll put it on your shirt, all right?" She didn't wait for an answer, instead fixing the pin on the left side of his chest, just under his collarbone. It didn't weigh much, and the metal had already heated up from Madge holding it. "Promise you'll wear it into the arena, Kaden? Promise?"

"I promise," he laughed, "Thank you." Then Madge suddenly pushed up onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, spinning around with a swish of her dress and leaving before he had time to react. After a few moments of surprised blinking he murmured, "Girls are weird."

When the door swung open again he was half-hoping it wouldn't be another random visitor. Thankfully it was Gale who stepped through, and Kaden barely had time to grin at the sight of his best friend before he was pulled into a tight hug. Then Gale moved back whilst he was still frozen in surprise – the older boy wasn't big on physical contact, or at least Kaden had thought he wasn't – and said, "Listen, getting a knife should be pretty easy, but you've got to get your hands on a bow. That's your best chance."

Kaden nodded in agreement, before frowning. "But they don't always have bows, and I'm not that great at making them."

"It doesn't matter," Gale dismissed, "A weak bow is better than no bow, and there's almost always some wood for you to use. If not, I know you've been practising with your father's weapons, so you have an advantage there."

"The Careers will've been training for this since before they knew how to talk! I'm _nothing _compared to that!" he exclaimed, allowing his doubts to leak in front of the one person he knew he could rely on, who he could trust. He could never express this to Prim, who was counting on him, and to anyone else it would make him look weak.

But Gale just put his hands reassuringly on Kaden's shoulders, saying, "Calm down, it's just hunting. You're the best hunter I know."

"But it's not just hunting," he argued, "They're other kids, like you and me. They have hopes and dreams and families. It's not like killing an animal; it's murder."

"So you'll let them kill Prim?" Kaden stiffened, but Gale went on, unrelenting. "You'll let them hurt her, just because you don't want to be a murderer?" Images flashed through his mind. Faceless figures who stood laughing over the bloodied corpse of his sister, her glassy eyes staring up at him accusingly.

"No, I won't let anyone touch her." He said firmly, resolve hardening into something unbreakable. "I'd kill them first."

Gale sighed, and Kaden couldn't tell whether it was in relief or something else altogether. "Good." The door opened and a Peacekeeper told them that Gale had been there long enough. The older boy managed a smile and ruffled Kaden's hair, earning him a playful punch in the shoulder. "Be careful out there, Kai. I'll see you soon," he said, and Kaden understood it was because he couldn't bring himself to say the final goodbye.

"Yeah, I'll see you."

**. . .**

When they arrived at the train station it was swarming with reporters and cameramen, all waiting to catch a glimpse of the District 12 tributes. Prim's eyes were red from crying, and Kaden carefully tucked her against his side as they made their way towards the train, shielding her at least somewhat from the eager eyes of the Capitol. He knew he should be trying to get as much attention as possible, should be posing for the cameras and getting people to want to sponsor him, but his rage was rising again at the sight of their excitement and blatant disregard for the fact that they were sending _children _to their deaths. Maybe they'd been like him, a little disconnected from the Games by his lack of association with it. But now it was affecting him personally, his fear spurring on his anger.

So he glared out at the cameras whilst they were forced to wait in the doorway of the train, and felt a vicious satisfaction when a few people gained an uneasy look. It was only when Prim tugged at his shirt and he looked down at her that he smiled, able to ignore the flashing and babbling whilst he attempted to put the nervous girl at ease. "Did father come to see you?" he asked quietly, trying not to be overheard.

"Yeah," she replied, practically whispering. Her eyes gained a mischievous glint. "He said to make sure you didn't do anything stupid."

Kaden chuckled. "He would say that."

Finally they were allowed inside, and he looked around uncomfortably at the luxurious surroundings. Most of the furniture was made of a heavy-looking wood, and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Then the train got going and he gaped at the speed, rushing over to the window to stare at the trees flashing by, ignoring Effie's disapproving huff.

"Come along," she said, moving to herd them along the carriage but looking reluctant to actually touch them. "I'll show you two to your chambers."

"Chambers?" Prim echoed in confusion.

It turned out that each tribute got their own set of private room, including a bedroom, a dressing area, and a private bathroom. They were right next door to each other, so the siblings didn't mind being separated for the short time it took to change clothes for supper, as per Effie's orders. Kaden didn't really see the point of it – he'd cleaned this morning, after all – but once he stepped under the hot spray of water he didn't want to ever get out. _This must be what heaven feels like, _he mused absently, rubbing some strange Capitol shampoo into his hair that made the locks silky smooth. Still spiky though, he noted in defeat.

Choosing a set of loose black trousers and a navy blue shirt he dressed quickly, remembering to grab Madge's gold mockingjay and pin it to his new shirt. He might not be in the arena yet but he didn't want to risk losing it. With the blue shirt he imagined it looked kind of like the bird was flying against the sky, blissfully free.

He didn't realise how much time had passed until Effie knocked on his door, and he sent Prim an apologetic look. He needn't have worried though; she'd only just finished getting dressed too, her hair still a little damp as it fell down the back of her green dress in shiny gold waves. They followed Effie down the narrow corridor, and the floor was so steady that it seemed impossible that the train was moving so quickly.

The dining room was just as impressive as the rest of the train, with a dark wooden table and matching chairs with soft cream seats. Blair was already seated, and when Effie enquired to the whereabouts of Haymitch she replied, "Gone to take a nap, last I saw. No doubt joined by a bottle or ten."

"Well, it's been an exhausting day," Effie said, choosing to ignore the Blair's comment and looking rather relieved at the man's absence.

When the food arrived the Everdeens dug in with gusto. It was more food than he'd ever seen at once; thick carrot soup, fresh salad, juicy steaks and buttery mashed potato, to name but a few. Kaden tried to take a little of everything, but his stomach wasn't used to such rich, fatty food, and so much of it at once, and by the end he was feeling a little sick. Prim was more sensible than he was, but even she filled and cleared her plate more than once. Was this what it would be like, as a victor? Never having to be hungry again, with warm showers and new clothes? Watching his sister smile contentedly, he feverishly wished so.

Seeing they were finished, Effie stood up. "This way; I'm sure you're curious to see who you'll be facing," she said brightly, and the three followed her into the cabin next door. Against one wall was a large screen, which flickered on when Effie picked up what seemed to be a small, streamlined remote control. There were three sofas and a chair, and Kaden settled on on of them, Prim hopping up beside him with her knees pulled up to her chest.

The screen showed a recap of the reapings, with the addition of commentators who add their own anecdotes and opinions. He made sure to pay attention to each district, learning their names and faces whilst trying to ignore the sick feeling of knowing that, one way or another, he was going to have to kill them. Sure, they might take each other out, or the Games itself might, but he had to prepare himself for the possibility.

District 2 was the only one other than 12 to have a volunteer – a brutish looking boy who's eagerness sent a shiver down Kaden's spine – and the rest of the Careers are the usual sort; athletic and well fed. The other tributes were mostly small and skinny, and he couldn't see them as much of a threat. The only exception was the district 11 boy, Thresh, who was taller than him and likely stronger too, judging by the powerful muscles in his arms. Kaden tried not to look at the female tribute, who was far too much like Prim with her tiny frame and wide eyes.

Finally they got to District 12, and Kaden swallowed at the sight of Prim standing alone and fearful on the stage. And then every camera was focussed on him, and he was taken aback by the fierceness on his own face, the blazing blue eyes glaring straight at the viewer. He knew that hadn't been his intention at the time, but he wondered what he must look like to the people who didn't know him as Prim's big brother. Did he look like the boy from 2, keen to try his hand at murder? Or could they see his desperation, his concern and apprehension? The commentators seemed to be in a state of shock when he hugged his sister, and told them his name. When they recovered they stared talking excitedly about how exciting the Games this year were going to be. As it turned out, his promise to Prim had been picked up on, and now they were wishing him "the best of luck!". Blair snorted at that.

The silent salute confused them, and one mentioned that 12 had always been a bit backwards. The camera panned out to show the crowd before focussing on his grinning face, the difference between his earlier expression of anger making the pride and happiness all the more obvious. It didn't help when one of the commentators decided to point out his good looks and "charming smile". Noticing the contemplative – assessing – glances Blair was sending him, Kaden was relieved when Haymitch gained the cameras attention instead. The program ended after the anthem was played, and Effie switched it off.

The Capitol woman's irritation seemed to be renewed by the sight of her ruffled self. "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behaviour." It was obvious which mentor she was talking about.

Kaden shrugged. "He's always drunk. I don't think he really cares about 'televised behaviour'."

Effie sniffed, folding one leg over the other. "Well, he should. Thousands of people are watching him! The entirety of Panem! How could he not care?"

Blair shot the younger woman a glare. "The same way you don't care about sending children to fight to the death for entertainment, ya damn peacock."

Effie gave a dramatic gasp and drew herself up, but before she could speak Haymitch stumbled into the room. "I miss supper?" he asked, voice slurred so much the words were near illegible, before promptly throwing up on the cream carpet and falling in the disgusting mess.

"That's it! I'm going to my room!" Effie about shrieked, jumping to her feet and fleeing the compartment in her ridiculous high heels.

Looking from his unconscious male mentor to the scowling female sitting across from him, Kaden slumped back with a sigh. "We're doomed."

**. . .**

_Just wanted to clear a couple of things up. The short moral dilemma Kaden has whilst chatting with Gale? I'm not done with that yet – he'd not just gonna get over having to kill people that easily. I noticed they don't really go that much into it in the books, but since I've designed Kaden to be the sort of character who would care about that kind of thing I have to include it. Feels weird though; I've gotten used to writing borderline psychopaths (which I haven't all posted, mind)._

_Sorry if he'd coming across as a bit bipolar too. He's supposed to be cheerful, but he seemed determined to angst this chapter. Understandable, considering..._

_Oh, and though he is attractive he isn't going to be some sort of Finnick mark two. I don't really want to focus on it, but it seemed like the kind of thing the Capitol would mention. Plus it's kinda important with the whole sponsor thing. _

_I'd love to get some feedback on how I'm doing – criticisms are welcome too, as long as you tell me what I'm doing wrong – and thank you The-Mixed-Up-Girl for the review! _


End file.
